Assassins Oddysey
by Casper45
Summary: Arcangelo Crocifissa Guerreiro is a 17 year old pureblood, and a trained assassin. And when given his first contract, to attend Hogwarts and kill three students, he discovers things he never knew existed. First fanfic!
1. Arcangelo and The Contract

_Click Clack. BOOM BOOM BOOM. _

The sound repeated itself as Arcangelo Crocifissa Gurreiro, a pureblood wizard of 17, unloaded the clip of his 9mm Glock 19 into a paper target. Arcangelo, Arc for short, had been in the basement shooting range of his families mansion for almost 5 hours today, honing the skills he had been brought up learning. For your average 17 year old pureblood wizard, these skills would be all manners of magic, speech skills, how to present yourself in public, what to wear in the presence of others, and all kinds of boring aristocrat stuff. And Arcangelo had learned all of these things, but he also had learned other things. All manners of dark magic, guncraft, the use of explosives, knife skills, first aid techniques, how to infiltrate high security buildings, and most importantly, how to kill skillfully and with no emotion. Like I said before, Arcangelo Crocifissa Gurreiro is not your average 17 year old. He was a member of a clan of wizard assassins, The Morte Regalo Assassinos, translated into The Death Gift Assassins. The constant repetitive noise of the Glock had given him a headache, so he proceeded to lazily toss one of his handmade stainless steel throwing knives into the wooden wall of the shooting range.

"_Accio Knife"_ he muttered. The knife zoomed across the room and had just entered his hand when he heard the door open. He had no need to check who it was; his father was the only other person to come down here.

"Arc, I have something very important to tell you," his father said with no emotion.

Arc shot him a look of surprise, which he quickly covered up with the emotionless mask that he wore at all times. His father rarely talked to him, let alone delivered important news. "Which is?" Arc replied levelly.

"You are being transferred this school year. You will no longer go to Durmstrang."

Arc nodded, this was good news, traveling all the way from Italy to Bulgaria every school year was a pain.

"You will now go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in Scotland." His father finished with a flicker of a smile playing at his lips.

Arc was surprised. "Scotland?" He thought. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. That's even farther than Bulgaria!" While he harbored these thoughts on the inside, on the outside he kept his cool, his face keeping the same look indifference that he had been taught as a young boy.

"What is the meaning of this, father?" Arc asked, knowing that there was a reason other than just education.

"You have been given a contract, my son. A contract to kill. Your mark is a student there."

Arc looked up from the table where he had been cleaning his Glock. Although he had been trained all his life to kill, to fulfill contracts for the many people across the world that wished someone else dead, he had never actually been assigned a contract. Most people wouldn't pay money for someone to be killed, only to have the contract be given to a 17 year old who would, in their minds, screw up somehow. But Arc knew he wouldn't screw up. He was born to kill. Bred to kill. He was born into the most infamous assassin family in the business, initiated into the most professional clan of wizard assassins there is, and trained by the best in the business. Arcangelo Crocifissa Gurreiro could sneak up behind you, slit your throat, and sneak away without being detected in less time than it takes most people to lock their front doors. There would be no failing this contract.

"Who is the contractor?" Arc inquired.

"There is no specific names, but we know it was issued by the Death Eaters."

Arc nodded, the Death Eaters were good business partners of the Morte Regalo Assassinos. "And who is it I am supposed to kill?"

His father smiled. "It is three people actually. Three people who I am sure Voldemort has been wishing to get out of the way for quite awhile. They go by the names of Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter."

Three Days Later 

Arcangelo sat at a darkwood table in the spacious dining room of his families mansion in Venice, Italy. He was reviewing the information his father had given him on his targets before he left for Hogwarts the next day. He would become an expert on the lives of the three Gryffindors he was tasked with killing. He knew their schedules, where they slept, who they were close to, when they were alone, everything. When he finished reading and rereading the pages, he walked up stair to his large bedroom. Actually, bedroom was an understatement. It was more like a grand hall. Killing people paid well. Arc then proceeded to check over the equipment he would use for the contract. He had all his standard school supplies, including his wand, obviously. He also had a few other things. The information said that Hogwarts had wards that prevented muggle technology from being used inside of school boundaries, so Arc had to alter his usual set of tools. He was bringing his trusty dagger, a few throwing knives, a coil of long, thin rope, a black facemask, and various poisons. He was also bringing a new item, one he had just invented a few days ago. It was made of light steel, and was place on ones lower arm. It had a housing for a dagger, and a button that was inbetween ones thumb and index finger. Pushing this button caused the dagger to slide forward, into the palm of the wearer, while still staying attached to the casing. And last but not least, Arc was bringing his Glock 19 and some ammo. It would most likely prove useless, but hey, it was a comfort thing.

Two Weeks Later 

Arcangelo looked down at his Rolex, nervously tapping the floor of the Rolls Royce with his foot. Although he had been trained his whole life for what was about to start when he stepped out of the car, he was still anxious. He was on his way to Kings Cross to board the Hogwarts Express. He was hoping to maybe gather some more information about his targets from some of their classmates while aboard the train. He kept checking and rechecking his equipment, and almost had a heart attack when he thought he lost his wand (Mahogany, 12 ½ inches, Dragon Heartstring core). He sighed in relief when he found it in the pocket of his BAPE hoodie. Although he was Italian, he had a thing for clothing that was popular in America. Right as he finished tightening the laces on his immaculately clean Nike Air Force Ones, the car glided to a stop. The driver stepped out and opened the door for him, while another family butler retrieved his luggage.

"I do hope you have a nice term Mr. Gueirro," the driver said in a thick Italian accent.

Arcangelo simply nodded, and started to walk towards the train station, his butler trailing behind with his luggage. As he approached Platform 9 ¾ , he caught a glimpse of one of his targets. The Weasley, by his red hair. Arc quickly locked on and followed the Weasley through the crowd of muggles on their daily commute. But it appeared he had lost him, for the bright haired teen was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated with himself, he began to think of where he could have gone.

"The train!" He told himself. It seemed pretty obvious now that he thought of it.

He began to search for Platform 9 ¾ in earnest. However, it was nowhere to be seen. He saw platforms 9 and 10, but there was nothing in between. But he did see a crowd of kids, ranging from little kids to teens that appeared to be around the same age as him. He figured that they were wizards, and that the wall between platforms 9 and 10 was the entrance to Platform 9 ¾, but Arc could not figure out how get through it. And while he was staring at the group of adolescents, thinking of how to get through the solid brick wall, one of the kids broke off from the group, sprinting full speed at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Arcangelo winced, knowing the kid was about to slam into the wall, hard. But there was no crash. Arcangelo opened his eyes, looking around in confusion for the kid who was supposed to have messed himself up by now. He was nowhere to be seen. This time, when the next person broke off from the group, Arc watched carefully. The boy, who couldn't have been older than 13, jogged at the brick wall with less speed than the boy who went before him. And instead of having his face smashed in, he simply went right through the wall. Poof. Like it was smoke.

"What the hell? No way that just happened. I'm not seeing right. It must be the early hour." He assured himself.

But, lo and behold, the process repeated itself yet again. Poof. Like the wall wasn't even there. Arc had to watch several more teens, and the occasional parent, travel through the seemingly solid wall before he convinced himself that his mind was not playing tricks on him, and that the people before him were indeed traveling through the wall.

"So that's how it's done," he thought to himself. He glanced at his watch. The train would be leaving soon. "Well, I better get to it then."

Arcangelo relieved his luggage from his butler and placed it in a nearby luggage trolley. He walked calmly to the front of the pack of Hogwarts students, cutting off a young girl who was about to go.

"Hey, you cut me! I was just about to-." She was stopped by the look Arcangelo threw her, which clearly said, "Keep talking and see what happens, bitch." She shut up.

Arc then stared the brick wall down, as if preparing to do battle with it. He was nervous, though he would never admit it. Pummeling his nerves into submission, he proceeded to sprint at the wall full speed. He closed his eyes, preparing for the crash that he was sure would happen-

And he wasn't disappointed. He opened his eyes and found that the crash had not come from slamming into the brick wall. No, he had made it through the wall just fine. The crash had come from slamming into a dark haired young man who appeared to be about his age.

"Watch where the hell your going!" the young man shouted.

Arc was about to open his mouth and teach the insolent fool some respect, when he got a closer look at the mans face. He was most definitely Arcangelos own age, with dark hair, and green eyes. He wore glasses and had a scar on his forehead. A lightning shaped scar. Arc quickly decided to apologize, and not ridicule his target, for maintaining the illusion of being your targets friend helps in getting close to him.

"Oh sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I'm new to the whole running threw walls thing. In fact, I'm new to this school," Arc said, layering his voice with a touch of concern and anxiety, to make himself appear the nervous newcomer.

"Oh, well that explains a lot. Welcome to Hogwarts then. I'm Harry. And you?" Harry replied.

"Arcangelo Crocifissa Guerreiro. I'm from Durmstrang, but I live in Italy." Arcangelo replied with a touch of pride.

"That's a pretty odd name. What does it mean?" Harry asked with a curious look.

"It translates to Archangel Crucifix Warrior." Arcangelo shot back.

"Oh, that's pretty cool. Well, we better get going; The Hogwarts Express is about to leave. So I'll see you around then?" Harry asked.

Arcangelo gave him a malicious grin. "Oh yeah, most definitely."


	2. Arriving and Sorting

A/N: What's up dear readers, I'm back by popular demand (popular demand meaning 1 review) to present to you chapter 2 in Assassins Odyssey. So….yeah. That was really all I have to say. Most other authors right lots of stuff here like "and trust me, there will be lots of coolio stuff going on this time, hehe, xoxo" but I'm not most other authors, damnit. Whatever then, back to the story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, other than Arcangelo and his story.

After his bump in(literally) with Harry Potter, Arcangelo proceeded to gather his luggage off the ground and board the Hogwarts Express. Taking a train to school seemed childish and pointless to him. I mean really, haven't they ever heard of brooms? Or side-along apparition for the younger students? Taking a train to school made it seem like some fairy tale.

"Though for the new mudblood students, I'm sure that is exactly what this whole thing feels like. A fairy tale." Arcangelo mumbled to himself. "Speaking of mudbloods…"

Arc had just caught site of his third target, Hermione Granger. She was fairly attractive, more attractive then her page in the information packet had made her out to be. He found himself mildly physically attracted to her, but he quickly shook this thought out of his head. No point in getting attracted to someone you must eventually kill. She walked briskly past him towards the front of the train, bumping in to him due to the crowd of people still looking for an empty compartment to sit in.

"Watch it," Arcangelo growled at her.

"And you will do what? Hex me in the middle of a crowded train?" She replied, obviously annoyed.

"What, the mudblood bitch isn't in a good mood today?" Arc sneered. "Are you fed up with all the boys throwing you disgusted looks, or maybe you got into a fight with Potter or the ginger. Or is it just that time of the month?"

Hermione looked furious. "You sure have a lot of guts for a new kid. I've never seen you at Hogwarts before. And how do you know Harry and Ron?"

"Ah, good question. And one that I am afraid I cannot answer. Good day." Arcangelo grinned, bowed, and disappeared into the crowd like a ghost, a skill he had learned in his training. Being able to disappear not just in darkness, but in public places is vital for an assassin.

Arcangelo continued down the trains corridor, glancing in every cabins window, looking for an open one. He finally found one near the back of the train, which was only occupied by a blonde haired teen, who was leaning back into the cushioning of the seat. Arc slid the door open and sat down on the opposite bench from the boy without saying a word.

"Who the fuck are you?" The young man asked.

"I'm afraid that is none of you business yet. Do you mind if I sit here? It really doesn't matter if you do or don't, because I'm not moving."

The boy opened his mouth like he was going to say something, closed it, then repeated the process several more times. He finally brushed a platinum blonde strand of hair out of his eye, and simply stared the peculiar new kid down.

"What's the matter? Can't figure out what to say to someone who has yet to submit to your intimidation tactics? I can tell your not used to that by the way you haven't said anything. By the way, the names Arcangelo. And yours?"

"Draco Malfoy," he said slowly.

"A Malfoy eh? I've heard of your family. Pureblood, dark wizards, richer than all hell?"

"Yeah, that would be us."

Arcangelo grinned. He liked this Draco kid. He was fairly witty, and they seemed to have a lot in common. Such as bullying weaker people, dark magic, American clothing, and rap music. Speaking of rap music, Arcangelo had just begun drifting off to sleep with his ipod blasting Eazy-E when he remembered that he needed to ask Draco something.

"Hey Malfoy, I need to ask you for a favor."

Draco cracked one eye open. He too had fallen asleep. "Yeah?"

"I need you to tell me all you know on Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger."

Draco grinned evilly, leaned forward, and started to speak.

_**1 hour later**_

Arcangelo stepped off the Hogwarts Express, his mind swimming with all the information he had just received. Apparently, his three targets were close friends, as close as friends could get. This would make his job all the more difficult, because there would be less times when one of his targets would be alone. As he mused with who he would kill first, he mindlessly followed Draco to a carriage that was being pulled by a large black skeletal horse. A thestral. He climbed in an once again sat across from Malfoy, because sitting next to him would have been quite awkward. He attempted to turn on his ipod to occupy himself, but it refused to power up. Arc sat there staring at the blank screen like and idiot for several seconds before he remembered.

"Muggle technology doesn't work in most wizarding towns or schools, which includes Hogwarts and Hogsmeade dumbass," He reminded himself. Arcangelo was getting a bit worried, forgetting such small things so early on. What if he wasn't cut out for this assassin stuff? No, he must not think of things like that. Shaking the thought out of his head, he looked out the small window of the carriage. They were at the edge of Hogsmeade, and there was a large gate, with the words "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" printed on the top in elaborate letters. As the first carriages approached the gate, it swung open noiselessly. The crowd of older students stayed in their carriages and continued down the dirt path towards the school, while the first years went off with Hagrid. When Arcangelo first saw Hagrid, he hated him immediately. Any one of that height must be at least part giant, and Arcangelo hated giants.

"Giants are stupid, loud, and barbaric," he had thought when he first caught site of the colossal gamekeeper. "Everything I am not."

The carriages slowed to a stop. Draco exited, so Arc, assuming that they were at the entrance to the school, followed suit. As he hopped out of the carriage, he was pelted with heavy raindrops. It was a dark night, but something told Arcangelo that he was standing in a shadow. He looked up and was barely able to discern the outline of the giant castle that would be his home for most of the year against the cloud covered sky. As he stood in the mud, face to the heavens, a lightning bolt appeared behind the outline of the school. There was a loud clap of thunder, and Arc chuckled to himself. Everything seemed so stereotypical. The dark and stormy night, the giant castle, the single bolt of lighting followed by thunder. Arc wondered if the school was charmed to do that when entering for the first time each year. While he pondered these thoughts, the large front doors swung open to reveal an even larger Entrance Hall. All the students filed in and begun walking towards two large double doors on the right, and Arc had begun to do the same when he was called to the side but a stern looking older woman.

"Are you Arcangelo Guerreiro?" She asked, reading a piece of parchment which Arcangelo guessed had his name on it.

"Yes, that's me," Arc replied.

"And you are new to Hogwarts?" The lady asked, still staring at the piece of parchment.

"Yeah…" Arc said, wondering where she was going with this.

"And you have transferred from Durmstrang?" The woman asked, still focused on that parchment.

"Get on with it…" Arcangelo finally spit out.

The lady gave him a stern glance over the top of her glasses. "I suggest you watch what you say here, for a rude mouth will get you nowhere."

Arcangelo simply nodded, he was done talking for now. Not because he was cowed by here warning, but because he considered her endless questions a waste of breath.

"Well then, it seems that you have not been sorted into a House yet. As you may know, the Hogwarts student body is divided into four Houses. Gryffindor, whose values are courage, chivalry and boldness. Hufflepuff, whose values are hard work, loyalty, patience, and friendship. Ravenclaw, whose values are intelligence, knowledge, and wit. And finally Slytherin, whose values are ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. If you will follow me, we will sort you into your House, and then you will be free to enjoy the feast with everyone else. And by the way, you may call me Professor McGonagall." With that, she turned around and walked away, apparently expecting Arcangelo to follow her. Which he did.

He ended up following her through several doors and down several corridors. He was just starting to wonder how much longer he would have to walk for when she arubtly stopped. She pointed her wand at a door infront of her, and murmured something that Arc couldn't hear. Turning around, she said, "If you will just step into this room, you will find a hat upon a stool. Sit down and put it on, and the Sorting Hat will do the rest. She opened the door for him, and Arc walked into the spacious room, which looked something like a large storage closet, except the only thing that was there was a stool and hat, just like McGonagall had said. Following her instructions, all the while thinking how weird this whole thing was, he sat down on the stool and placed the beaten old hat on his head. He nearly fell of the stool when the hat began to talk.

"Ah, a new student! Older yes, but new none the less. Let me see here, hmmmm. You seem to be quite intelligent, and wise beyond your years. A Ravenclaw then maybe? We will see, won't we? But you also possess a bit of courage, but not the courage Gryffindor is looking for, I am sure. I have noticed the ambition in you, and the resourcefulness that is not found in most your age. Let us see…Ah yes, I have made my decision. SLYTHERIN!"

A/N: Yep, he's a slytherin all right. But I bet you guys saw that coming anyway. I'll try to update soon. Read and Review please!! Peace.


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